


i could be lonely (with you)

by Luna_Myth



Category: What Remains of Edith Finch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst, House Party, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Music, Meet-Cute, Missing Scene, One Night Stands, One Shot, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Myth/pseuds/Luna_Myth
Summary: I met you late night, at a party / Some trust fund baby's Brooklyn loft / By the bathroom, you said let's talk / But my confidence is wearing offTwo people go to a party on the night of April 26th, 2016.
Relationships: Edith Finch/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	i could be lonely (with you)

**Author's Note:**

> here's my thoughts on christopher's dad! if anyone else has thoughts i'd love to hear them <3
> 
> the song i've pulled the title and summary from is broken by lovelytheband

The house was big and perfectly normal. At least three stories tall, grand windows stretched across its front, yellow light pouring from most of them, and from inside could be heard the faint sounds of music and shouting. It was nothing like the house Edith had grown up in, but looking up at it, she couldn’t help but pause. It was intimidating in its normalcy, she supposed, and its grandeur. Her childhood home may have been tall, but it wasn’t grand. This place, by contrast, was one of the nicest--and largest--houses in the area, or at least among those available to her high school classmates. 

Edith entered through the open front door and blinked in the sudden change of light. At eight pm in late April, it was finally dark outside, but the foyer was lit with a welcoming yellow glow from an ostentatious overhead light. She continued into the main room where the lighting was dimmer but still passable and a group of high school students were laughing amongst themselves over top of the music. As she watched, a steady stream of people flowed in and out of a nearby room she assumed was the kitchen based on what the people were carrying. She recognized a few of them as students at her high school, but not all. 

Looking around, she saw people everywhere, mostly talking and laughing, but a few dancing, and all of them seemingly knowing what they were doing. Edith didn’t see anyone she especially wanted to talk to, so she followed the flow of people into the kitchen out of curiosity. After examining the offerings of trail mix and barbeque chips, she accepted a red cup of an unknown liquid with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile. Whatever the drink was, it did not taste good, but she couldn’t think of any reason not to drink it, so she did. 

She cycled out of the kitchen, and by the time she was halfway through her drink it had stopped tasting as bad. She figured either she was acquiring the taste for it or that was just the alcohol at work. Either way, Edith appreciated it. 

She had wound up near the bathroom where there was a lull in the steady hum of party activity. She could hear laughter and music from her left, where people seemed to be congregating in the living room, and cheering from her right, the origin of which was unknown. Taking another sip of her drink and only recoiling slightly at the taste, she set off down the hallway to see what was happening. 

The corridor opened up into a large dining room, where someone standing on the center table appeared to be giving a speech. It was hard to make out what he was saying over the cheering, but Edith heard the name of the host and the word “awesome”, so she assumed it was a toast to the person whose house they are using. If memory served, this was a birthday party of sorts, although many more people had been invited than the host could possibly know personally. The fact that Edith herself had heard of this party was a testament to its wide circulation. As a general rule, she didn’t speak to her classmates very much, so a considerable amount of buzz had to have been generated for her to have heard of it. 

She stood watching the speech for a minute, drinking the last contents of her red cup and musing without meaning to. It wasn’t that she disliked talking to her classmates--she just didn’t have anything to say to them. She didn’t know any of them very well either. Most of them had known each other their whole lives, or at least for all of high school, but Edith had only transferred here her junior year, after years of moving around. And before that…

In some ways it was even harder to talk about what her life had been like on Orcas Island than it was to talk about her time traveling with her mom. She couldn’t think of any especially good reason this was the case, but her memories of that time felt strange and indistinct, almost like they had happened to someone else. Even the happy memories of her time on Orcas Island felt strange to talk about, like they would veer off into dangerous territory at a moment’s notice, so instead she didn’t talk about them at all. 

That didn’t stop her from thinking about them sometimes. 

Edith wandered off to explore the rest of the house, drifting back into the kitchen for another cup of unknown alcohol first. She liked having something to do with her hands. But after looking around and finding a pool table, two foosball tables, four TVs, and more people than she’d ever seen in one house before, all on the first floor, she ended up back by the bathroom, in the corridor connecting the living room and dining room. She had not yet encountered a single locked door. She was thinking about attempting entry of the second and third floors when the music coming from the living room changed and a cheer went up from the crowd. 

_ “Wish we could turn back time to the good old days when our momma sang us to sleep, but now we're stressed out,”  _ sang the chorus of the song. 

Almost everyone in the living room came in for the line  _ stressed out _ , which made Edith smile. She could appreciate the sentiment. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she’d come to this party, other than that she didn’t have anything better to do and some part of her was hoping for a distraction. The other part of the trouble was she didn’t know what to do now that she was here. 

Suddenly, she felt something bump into her from the right side at quite a high speed, the impact causing a burst of dull pain, and she turned in surprise, having completely failed to notice anything approaching her. At first, all she could see was unkempt brown hair, presumably belonging to whoever had run into her, but then the person turned around, eyes wide with shock and confusion, and the image solidified into a young man with floppy brown hair wearing a button-up shirt. He seemed immediately apologetic. 

“Oh no, are you okay?” he asked anxiously, having grabbed her upper arm with one hand to steady himself and her. “I totally just backed into you.” 

“I’m fine,” said Edith, still holding her red cup, which had blessedly been empty when the young man collided with her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were moving backwards pretty fast for some reason.” 

The young man grinned. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just got lost. I’m Thomas Richards, by the way.” 

She looked him over again, trying to remember if he went to her school by any chance, but nothing came to her. “My name is Edith Finch.” 

“Ever go by Edie?”

“No.” That was her great-grandmother’s name. “Do you ever go by Tom?”

The young man pulled a face. “No. That was my grandfather’s name.”

Edith smiled despite herself. She didn’t think she knew him from anywhere, but he seemed nice. “Edith Finch and Thomas Richards it is.” 

“Good to meet you,” the young man--Thomas--offered. “Sorry for crashing into you.” 

“It’s okay,” Edith told him, not really minding but appreciative of the apology. “I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Thomas scrunched his eyebrows together. “Any reason for that?” he asked, seeming to have forgotten that he was still holding her arm and standing very close. To his credit, it made him easier to hear despite the general chaos and noise of the party. 

“For one thing,  _ Stressed Out _ by Twenty One Pilots is playing,” said Edith, not without humor. “But mostly I was trying to figure out what to do since I decided to come to this party for some reason. I don’t really know anyone here.” 

Thomas nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you’re not alone in that. I know one person here, and he left me as soon as we arrived.” He finally let go of her arm and smiled at her hopefully. “Guess we know each other now, though, right? By name at least.” 

He had very dark brown eyes, Edith noticed. It had been a long time since she last stood near enough to someone to notice such things. 

“Y-yes,” she said, trying to smile back and suddenly overthinking every aspect of her response. “If...if you want to know more of me than just my name, you can come with me to the kitchen. I’m out of”--she turned her red cup over--”whatever this is.” 

Thomas’s face lit up, which filled Edith with an odd sense of relief. He looked so happy at her offer that her anxiety disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and she found herself smiling at him genuinely--a small, hesitant smile, but genuine nonetheless. 

“I’d love to,” he said. “Please lead the way.” 

XXX

The kitchen was comparatively empty at this point, the original stream of people having settled in various other parts of the house as the night wore on. Whenever people did venture back into the kitchen, for alcohol or trail mix, they were met with a few others who appeared to have taken up permanent residence, and among them were Edith Finch and Thomas Richards. 

They were standing against the kitchen counter, each holding a red cup they were on the fence about refilling, and they had been talking for some time now, only stopping to occasionally help confused party-goers find what they were looking for in the kitchen. Edith didn’t think this was necessarily a common thing to do at parties, but to her surprise she was enjoying herself. The pleasant buzz she was experiencing from her third cup of mystery drink may have been a contributing factor, but she didn’t stop to examine that idea for too long for fear of breaking the spell. She just wanted the feeling to stay. 

Another confused-looking teenager wandered into the kitchen, holding a bunch of red cups, and Edith shared a smile with Thomas, who had been doing a good job keeping her company so far. 

“It’s over there,” she informed the newcomer kindly, pointing in the direction of the keg before turning back to her new friend. 

Thomas had already told her that he had also transferred schools partway through high school, which was why he didn’t know anyone here at the party either. Evidently it had something to do with his family’s line of work, which had resulted in him living all over the state before ending up here. Edith had told him a bit about traveling with her mom, but nothing from before that. 

“It sounds like you’ve lived in Washington your whole life like me,” said Thomas, smiling. “It’s pretty boring moving around so much but not even leaving the state. Have you ever left Washington?” 

Edith hesitated. “Technically, I was born in India, but I don’t remember being there. I mostly just grew up on Orcas Island until I was eleven, until my mom and I left and started moving around.” 

Thomas’s eyes were wide. “Can I ask why you came here?” he said, clearly very interested but trying to be polite. “From India, I mean.” 

“I don’t mind,” said Edith. “It’s kind of a long story, but the short version is that my mom wanted to move back here when my dad died. He was from there which is why we stayed, but my mom’s side of the family has a house here. I guess she didn’t know where else to go.” 

Thomas nodded respectfully. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he offered. 

Edith felt her heart pang for some reason she couldn’t determine. “It’s okay,” she said. “Like I said, I didn’t actually end up remembering anything about being in India, although my brothers probably did, so I don’t really remember my dad. I didn’t really know him.” 

“Still, I’ve never left the country,” said Thomas, looking at her like she impressed him in some way. “Guess that makes you cooler than me.” 

Edith laughed in surprise. “That’s an awfully low bar,” she said. “I think you must be selling yourself short.” 

Thomas shrugged. “Not really. What about me haven’t I told you? I’ve lived in Washington my whole life. I have a mom and a dad and a younger sister. My dad is going to make me go to college for business so I can take over his real estate company, which is super boring. I’m sorry I’m not a very interesting person. You could’ve had someone much cooler run into you back there.” 

“If we’re playing that game,” said Edith, “you could’ve run into someone a lot more fun than me. This is the first party like this I’ve ever been to. I don’t really have any friends, and I don’t know what I’m doing here.” 

Thomas shifted against the kitchen counter and stuck his free hand out to dangle in the air. “It’s okay,” he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and then away again. “In case it wasn’t obvious from being at a party alone, I don’t really have any friends either. Um. My hand’s there if you want it, though.” 

She stared at it, hanging suspended within easy reach. By all accounts, it was a perfectly normal hand, somewhat paler and bigger than hers, attached to an arm that was mostly covered by the sleeve of a pale blue button-up shirt. That arm was in turn attached to the body of a young man named Thomas Richards, who seemed a perfectly normal young man, even slightly better than the average really, and it was this fact that led Edith to reach out and take his hand. 

He squeezed hers gently and said, “Nice gloves.” 

Edith gave a noise of surprise. “I forgot I was wearing them. I always do. I think they’re nice too.” She felt like there was a bubble of air in her chest that she was afraid was going to burst at any second. She didn’t want it to break. It made her feel lighter, freer, better, having it there. 

But eventually Thomas let go of her hand, and the bubble popped. Edith exhaled slowly. 

“What do you say we refill these one last time”--Thomas gestured at their red cups--”and go stand in the dining room instead? Just for the sheer change of pace.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Edith replied easily. “You can tell me what’s so boring about your dad’s real estate company on the way.” She smiled at him, wanting him to know she cared about what he had to say even if he thought it wasn’t that interesting, and Thomas’s eyes went wide again. 

“I-I mean, what about it  _ isn’t _ boring?” he said, in a tone that was slightly too stunned to come off as joking. “But sure, I’ll tell you about anything you want to hear, Edith.” 

She followed him over to the drink keg, that light feeling back in her chest. 

XXX

Thomas Richards watched Edith Finch carefully, feeling like he was trying to put together a puzzle. He had only met her a few hours ago, but for some reason she was the most captivating thing at this party for him. He didn’t want to miss any details as she spoke, telling him about something that had happened in her history class, her voice soft and lilting, her expression gentle. She appeared to be having a good time, for which Thomas was grateful, but there was something sad about her as well, and Thomas couldn’t figure it out. 

His first impression of her had been purely positive. After realizing he’d bumped into someone and spinning around to check if they were okay, he’d been met with the sight of a young woman with long dark hair in a ponytail and freckles across the bridge of her nose. She’d instantly struck him as somewhat reserved, not unlike Thomas himself, but also fairly kind and witty--overall, someone he would like to hang out with, which in itself was unusual. 

And now, getting to know her, he stood by that initial impression, but there was something more to her than that, he was sure of it. Her telling him about her dad and moving back to America from India was only part of it. For the most part, she had been evasive about her life, or rather anything that had happened to her before the age of eleven. She had told him more about the period of her life spent moving around with her mother, which paralleled Thomas’s own experience considerably, but even there he felt she was withholding something. 

It wasn’t that he really minded--after all, despite how well they were getting on, they had only known each other a few hours--but it did make him desperately curious. Edith Finch was by far the most interesting person he had met in recent memory, so a part of him was deeply proud that she seemed to have decided to spend the evening with him, but another part of him wanted to push his luck and find out exactly what was going on with her. 

He just also didn’t want to be rude or disrespectful in the process. 

“What about you?” Edith asked him. They were standing in the living room now, and Thomas had to admit he thought she looked very pretty in the strange multi-colored lighting of the party. It was possible the contents of the strange red cups was also influencing him, but he was sure she was pretty while he was sober too, even if he would struggle more to admit it. “What’s it like where you go? I don’t actually think you’ve said where you go to school yet.” 

“Oh.” Thomas smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just kind of boring. I did already mention I’m a junior like you, right?” Edith hummed in the affirmative. “Yeah, I go to--”

At that moment, a large boy who had been arguing with a group of people a few feet away turned around and stormed off, evidently giving up on whatever his point had been. As he passed, he shoulder-checked Edith, sending her tumbling into Thomas. This effectively cut off what Thomas had been saying and started a new train of thought entirely. 

Startled, Thomas inhaled sharply as Edith landed against him, his arms instinctively coming up to steady her. She was pressed into his chest, her chin against his shoulder seeing as he wasn’t much taller than her, and Thomas was suddenly humming with nervous energy, alight with the fact she was very much there in his arms and not immediately pushing back from him. He wasn’t trying to, but he could smell her shampoo, some sort of coconut-scented affair, and he was overwhelmed by how soft and warm she was. He didn’t think he had received a hug from anyone in a while, now he thought of it. Maybe that was it. 

“Are you okay?” Thomas mumbled into her hair, his arms still awkwardly wrapped around her back. He could feel her breathing against him, almost feel her heart, and the sensation was soothing in a way. 

“I’m fine,” Edith murmured in reply. “Funny this keeps happening to me, though.” She pulled back slightly to look at him, Thomas instantly mourning the loss of her warmth, and said, “Sorry. I’m not trying to intrude on your space like this. I just didn’t feel up to moving right away.” 

She was still standing very close to him, actually, her arms now on his shoulders and his around her waist. “Did he hit you that hard?” asked Thomas, feeling like he was having some trouble comprehending the situation. That was probably at least partly due to how close Edith was. 

“Physically, not really. Emotionally, yes.” Edith was looking at him with an expression that was hard to define. Her dark brown eyes seemed sad, their depths infinite at such close range. “I was just tired, and I wanted a break from standing on my own for a second. You make a nice pillow, Thomas.” 

“T-thanks.” Thomas blinked at her, heart still beating fast. He let his hands slip down and off of her, trying to abate his confusion, and she reluctantly removed her arms from his shoulders. “Um, what were we talking about?”

Edith seemed to come back to herself slightly. “I don’t remember either,” she admitted. 

There was a moment of silence, and then Thomas asked: “Are you okay?” A beat, and then--”I know I already asked you that, but you just--said you were tired, and sometimes you seem...sort of sad, even though I think you’re having a good time. At a party. With me.” 

For the first time tonight, Thomas felt his cheeks go hot. 

“I’m--” Edith went quiet and looked away. “I’m not sure if I want to talk about it.” In that moment, she seemed much smaller than she had previously. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Thomas said quickly, his heart in his throat. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He ended up putting his hands in his pockets and looking away as well. In their small corner of the party, the air was still and quiet between them. And then--

“I, um…” Edith glanced at him before looking down at her gloved hands. “I’m alone right now. The rest of my family...they’re all gone. My mom, um…” Edith shook her head, a deep-seated weariness bleeding through. “It’s been a lot”--her voice broke slightly on the word  _ lot _ \--”and I don’t really have anybody--I haven’t talked to anyone--I haven’t, um--” She broke off entirely before saying in a very quiet voice two words: “I’m lonely.” 

Thomas was stunned for the space of one heartbeat, two heartbeats, and then he let out a slow exhale. “Hey, wow, um,” he said softly, “that really is a lot, huh.” Without meaning to, he drifted closer to her, coming close but not quite touching. “I’m sorry. About your family. And about everything. But um. Thanks. For telling me. I, uh, think you’re pretty cool, and I, um. Really like getting to know you. Even if you’re lonely. I guess I’m pretty lonely too. So um, anyways. Thanks for talking to me, Edith.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think of how he’d likely mangled the whole exchange and she wouldn’t want anything to do with him again, when he felt a soft touch on his left hand. His eyes flew open, and he was looking at Edith Finch at close range, her hand on his hand, her dark eyes wide and beautiful. He could’ve counted each individual freckle on her face if he had the time, but he’d temporarily forgotten how to breathe, much less count. He felt like his head was buzzing, almost high on what was surely a number of factors, alcohol and late hour among them, but he brushed all of those aside to focus on  _ her _ , by far the most intoxicating factor he had encountered tonight. 

“It’s no problem,” she said. “I like talking with you too. Makes me feel less alone.” 

Thomas felt himself blush again. “Y-yeah, I agree. I’m sorry, I still feel sort of out of practice, though. Um, you should tell me about things you like.” 

Edith laughed gently, in stark contrast to her melancholy a minute ago. “I doubt you can be any more out of practice than me.” 

Her hand slipped out of his, but Thomas only blushed harder. “Maybe, but you still seem to be doing better than me. Do you want to hear about something I like instead? Give you a chance to think of something?” 

Edith tapped him with her elbow, seemingly on accident as she shifted, and Thomas felt the touch reverberate throughout his whole body. “I would appreciate that.” 

“So uh.” Thomas looked around and felt his phone in his pocket. “Something I like is  _ Minecraft _ . I still play it on mobile because I like to have it with me at all times, in case I’m stuck waiting or something. I’ve been working on a skyscraper in survival mode. I think it looks pretty okay. Have you come up with anything yet?” 

Edith smiled, and a part of Thomas he didn’t recognize right away went warm. “Yes, actually,” she said. “I used to play video games with my brother Lewis. Mostly old games for the SNES, and he was pretty bad at them, but it was a lot of fun. I haven’t played  _ Minecraft _ in a while, but it’s a good game.” 

“What platform do you play on?” Thomas asked, his hands in his pockets. “We should play together sometime--but you still need to come up with your own thing you like. You can’t just borrow mine, or else how is that fair? I want to hear about you.” 

He was speaking partly in jest, but partly from genuine curiosity. He really did want to hear about something unique to Edith Finch, who he had been talking to all night but had yet to grow tired of hearing about, in part because they had talked about many things only tangentially related to themselves. They had talked about music, and school, and alcohol, and books, and a little bit about family, and in all of these things Thomas had heard pieces of who Edith Finch was, but all of these had only made him more curious, almost eager, to get to the heart of her. While talking to her, he had realized how rare it was for him to talk seriously with someone, to actually learn about another person, and now he was filled a desire that he hadn’t realized he had--to connect with another human being. He wanted to bare his heart to her and be gifted with the sight of hers in return. 

The problem was he didn’t quite know how to do that. 

But it was just past eleven at night, he’d had several drinks of unknown alcoholic content, and damn if he wasn’t going to try. 

“Um, I play on my laptop…” Edith trailed off, her cheeks dark. “Sorry, I’m just trying to think of something I haven’t already told you.” She paused for a beat, and then said, “This is probably a weird answer, but I like journaling. I like writing things down and drawing a few things… I’m not the best at art, but I think my sketches look okay.” 

Thomas smiled. “Like me and my  _ Minecraft _ skyscraper. Keep going.” 

“A lot of people in my family are artists, actually,” she continued. “Or were, anyways. My brother Milton, he was a painter, and my great-grandmother, she used to do these portraits of family members. My grandfather was a photographer, too.” 

“Any fellow writers?” Thomas asked, and Edith nodded, taking a half step toward him. 

“Yeah, we’re pretty into stories,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “Some of us, anyway. The old house was filled with books, although only some of them were written by family members. It was a lot of nonfiction, which probably isn’t everyone’s favorite, but I liked a lot of the history books. I still do.” 

“That’s pretty cool,” said Thomas sincerely. “My family doesn’t do anything like that. All my family does is buy and sell buildings. Sometimes rent them out to people. Not really helping the world be a better or more interesting place.” A note of bitterness had crept into his voice. 

Edith’s shoulder brushed his, and Thomas’s heart stuttered. “You talked about your family’s business a bit earlier,” Edith recalled, her voice soft and gentle compared to the continuing commotion of the party. “You said you’re going to work there after you go to college?” 

Thomas sighed and without thinking about it brushed his shoulder back against Edith in reply. They were standing so near each other now, it was almost harder not to touch each other. A warm feeling had settled in Thomas’s stomach. 

“I’m supposed to take over the business at some point,” said Thomas, with a deep-seated acceptance born of years of preparation. “I’m resigned to it. I’ve known about it for years, and it’s not a bad life. A lot of people would be lucky to have that kind of security, their whole life laid out before them. Graduate high school. Go to college for business. Get a job at my dad’s company. Take over that someday. It’s not that bad. I’m usually okay with it. I don’t know why I’m complaining now. I guess you just make me want to be honest.” 

“Is there something else you’d prefer to do?” Edith asked, looking thoughtful. 

Thomas shook his head. “That’s just it. I haven’t thought of anything else. It’s just...I don’t really have a choice about it, you know? It’s kind of like this is just my destiny, and I have to accept that, but...sometimes it does hit me that everything could be different, and yet, here I am. And it’s like, I’ve accepted this is my life, but I’m still kind of mad about it sometimes. It’s kind of dumb. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” 

“No, it’s okay,” said Edith, touching his arm. “I think I get what you mean. I feel that way sometimes too. I guess everyone is limited in some ways by their circumstances, some more than others.” 

“Yeah.” Thomas looked down at where Edith was touching him, sending a feeling of happiness through his whole body. “Not to change the topic, but would you mind if we held hands?” He was feeling unusually bold now. “I noticed we keep bumping into each other, and it seems an easy fix.” 

Edith shifted her grip from his upper arm to his hand. “Sounds good to me,” she said, looking as happy as he had ever seen her. Thomas felt his heart kick into a new rhythm, a foolish grin on his face. He had never held hands like this with someone before, and he was finding he liked it very much. What he could feel of Edith’s hand was warm, and the fingerless gloves she wore were soft and textured, not at all unpleasant to feel against his own palm. But it wasn’t just the physical sensation of it that had Thomas feeling like he could run a marathon, although he certainly enjoyed that--it was the knowledge that she’d agreed to it, that someone cared about him in some small way. 

“Good as hell,” said Thomas, smiling. His boldness hadn’t worn off yet, and he wasn’t sure it was going to for the rest of the night. The whole of his arm was pressed against Edith’s, sending a flood of warmth through him. He felt electric. “You were saying about circumstances?” 

XXX

Edith was holding hands with and talking to a boy she’d met a few hours earlier, and she was smiling. It was easier to talk now for some reason, much easier since she hadn’t yet scared him off with the family curse thing, and they had been talking for a while about philosophy. Thomas appeared to agree with her that some situations posed near insurmountable obstacles to people’s attempts to determine their own fates, but he seemed interested in what could be done in those situations anyway, stubbornly looking for any scrap of optimism or chance of hope in the circumstances their conversation outlined. Edith was endeared. 

“Some good could happen,” he said, squeezing her hand. “And if it doesn’t, it should.” 

“That would be nice,” she agreed, “but so far, I have to think that it usually doesn’t.” 

Thomas tilted his head at her, handsome brown eyes startlingly close. She wasn’t sure when she’d decided his eyes were handsome, but they were. For the most part, he was average--average height, average face, average build. His hair was slightly longer than normal, but still well within acceptable parameters. He was just a normal looking white guy, really, although better dressed than some, but his eyes were decidedly striking. 

Maybe it was just that they kept getting so close to hers. 

“Why do you say that?” he asked, looking at her with his brow furrowed. Edith unconsciously tightened her grip on his hand. 

“I just...haven’t heard of it happening,” she said, “and I know it hasn’t happened to me. It’s not just my immediate family that’s gone. Everyone with my last name going back since before the family moved here from Norway has died pretty young, and now I’m the last one left. If we’re following a pattern, I’m not expecting things to go very well for me. It’s kind of hard to imagine any good coming from all that.” 

Thomas seemed to think about this. Edith felt strangely calm as she studied him, her mood surprisingly unaffected by contemplating the likelihood of her early death. Maybe she had attained sufficient distance to look at things objectively, or maybe she was just used to it at this point. Before she could think about it anymore, Thomas reached his conclusion. 

“Maybe we’re thinking too grand scale,” he suggested, his head right next to hers as if they were sharing in some private conspiracy. To anyone looking on, it would certainly seem so. “Maybe I’m destined to take over my dad’s company, and maybe whatever strange curse haunts your family will get you too some day, but maybe something good can happen in the meantime.” 

Edith smiled at the word  _ curse _ despite herself. “I  _ am _ here with you,” she said hesitantly. “Would you say that’s good?” 

A slow smile spread across Thomas’s face. “Yes, of course,” he said, turning so he could hold both of her hands in his. “Hey, Edith, listen.” His expression was serious. “I like you. You probably figured that out already, but I wanted to say it. I like how you’re like me, kind of sad and serious and awkward. I’m really happy you’ve spent this time with me. I think it’s  _ good _ . So thank you. Again.” 

Edith realized she was blushing. “I like you too,” she said, somewhat flustered by his intensity. The words themselves were not overly romantic, but Thomas was looking at her with such seriousness that she could feel his sentiment pierce right through her. Her heartbeat picked up, and she wanted to do something like lean into him or hug him, but she didn’t. She just continued to hold his hands, and eventually she looked away, face still burning. 

They started talking again about nothing in particular, holding hands and standing side by side while looking out at the party, but Edith’s heart rate wouldn’t go back down. She kept thinking about his face so close to hers, and something inside her ached. 

“Hey, can I lean against you?” she asked during a break in the conversation. “We’ve been standing here a while, and my legs are kind of tired.” 

This was not technically a lie, but she would be lying if she didn’t admit to herself her primary motivation was actually to be closer to Thomas. 

Thankfully, Thomas seemed to implicitly understand. “Sure thing,” he said, pulling her closer. He put his arm around her shoulder, and asked, “Is this okay?” 

He felt warm and steady against her, and Edith hummed appreciatively. “Yes, definitely.” 

Thomas smiled at her. “Oh good.” His smile was like the effect of sunshine hitting her face--warm and gentle and a temporary increase in brightness. Compared to the relative darkness of the house at this late hour, not to mention the general feeling of darkness in her day to day life, it was a blessing. 

Five minutes later, Edith was still enjoying studying Thomas’s face up close, and he interrupted his tangent about sleep schedules to say, “You should feel my hair. It’s really soft.” 

Edith laughed in surprise, but a greater part of her was delighted. “Okay,” she said, smiling. “I will.” She reached up the hand that wasn’t wrapped behind Thomas’s back and carefully ran her fingers through his hair, starting from his scalp and dragging her fingers all the way to the ends of his hair. Thomas appeared as delighted by this as she was. His hair was soft as he’d promised, and relatively thick and fine. 

“Very nice,” she informed him, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. “You can feel mine if you want.” Despite her casual tone, her heart was pounding rapidly. 

Thomas grinned and ducked his head. “I would be honored.” He gently brushed the hair on top of her head before touching her ponytail, letting it slip through his fingertips. Edith’s breath caught in her chest. 

“I love it,” said Thomas simply. “Silky. Pretty. Good.” He was looking at her in a way she didn’t quite recognize, but she liked it. She wanted him to keep looking at her that way. His hand hovered near her cheek like he wanted to touch her again, but wasn’t quite sure of himself. The moment stretched on, his hand still suspended in the air as they studied each other, and then--

Edith took his hand and held it to her cheek. “It’s okay,” she said, periodically rubbing his palm with her thumb. “You can do it.” 

Thomas turned slightly red. “I’ve never, um, before,” he said. He moved his other hand to carefully stroke her neck. 

It wasn’t clear what he was referring to, but Edith understood his meaning. “I haven’t either.” 

“Right.” They were fully facing each other now, hardly anything separating them, and despite being in the living room in plain view, no one was looking at them. In fact, around the room, various other couples were entwined, some much more than they were. That aching started again, and Edith tightened her grip on Thomas’s hand. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, a sort of weak desperation in his voice. 

Edith leaned toward him. “Please do,” she whispered. 

He did. Neither of them knew what they were doing, but that didn’t stop Thomas from pressing his lips against Edith’s, or her from grabbing the back of his head. Any previous sense of hesitancy or uncertainty was gone. Edith’s mind was clear of everything except for the feeling of another person’s skin on hers. She gave Thomas just enough room to breathe before kissing him again, no longer caring to conceal her eagerness. He clutched her shoulder in return, just as unwilling to break away from her. 

For having never done this before, Edith was having a good time. Thomas was gentle but determined, wrapping his arms around her in a way that felt safe but not constrictive. Experimentally, Edith plucked at his lower lip, and he gasped softly, eyes flying open. His pupils were wider than they had been minutes ago, a fact which Edith knew for sure from careful study of his eyes. She started to ask if he was okay, but he nodded frantically and did to her what she had just done to him. Edith’s eyes widened and she kissed him harder. 

After that, time started to blur together as the two of them got the hang of things. Thomas flicked his tongue out, and Edith giggled as he blushed at her reply. Their hands roamed each other restlessly, unable to stay in one place for long. Edith found herself dragging a hand through Thomas’s hair again because he seemed to like it so much. He crumpled against her and kissed the spot where her jaw met her neck. Edith shivered and continued to pet his hair. 

“Hey,” she said breathlessly as he kissed her. “Hey, Thomas.” He looked up at her with desperate eyes. Her own were much the same. “I--” For a moment, she was too winded to speak. “I know a place. Follow?” 

Thomas kissed her on the lips again. “Yes. ‘Course.” 

She pulled him back towards the hallway they had first met in, near the bathroom. They stopped once to duck out of the way of a sudden flood of people and ended up pressed against a wall, collapsed into each other like a pair of dying stars. Edith kissed Thomas again and again, clutching the collar of his shirt. She was at once happier and more desperate than she had ever been. 

The way cleared, and Edith tugged Thomas forward, stopping in front of the door to one of the spare bedrooms she had explored earlier this evening. Still thoroughly entwined with Thomas, Edith opened the door and slipped inside, turning the lock behind them. 

XXX

Apart from the yellow light of a lamp on the bedside table, it was dark and still in the guest bedroom. Edith and Thomas lay side by side on the queen sized bed, still holding hands but neither speaking. Edith had abandoned her jacket by the door, and Thomas had kicked off his loafers. Edith’s shoes, a pair of heavily laced boots which required significantly more effort to remove, had been left in a hasty pile at the side of the bed. Most unusual of all, her gloves were folded neatly on one of the pillows. 

Edith had already dragged her skinny jeans back on, but Thomas’s khakis remained in a crumpled heap nearby, leaving him in a pair of gray boxers, plain white socks, and a half-buttoned blue dress shirt. He seemed surprisingly okay with this. 

“Been a good night,” Edith offered, still looking at the ceiling. It was an exceptionally boring ceiling, without even the bumps and ridges of a popcorn ceiling to make it interesting. 

“It has,” Thomas agreed, doing the same. His hand was warm and slightly sweaty where it met hers, but Edith still liked it. She could feel her heart rate slowly returning to normal and imagined his was doing the same, as if she could feel it through the connection of their palms. It was a nice feeling, a nice idea, to be so connected to another person. 

“You doing anything tomorrow?” asked Thomas. From his air, they could have been waiting for a bus or in line for the school cafeteria, not lying in bed in a spare room of a stranger’s house. 

Edith smiled. “No, I’m--” 

Outside, in the rest of the house, where the party had been continuing, people started shouting. 

It was not the usual cheers and laughter, which varied in pitch and intensity throughout the night. Instead, the commotion was of a distinctly alarmed and even frightened tone. Footsteps started rushing past the door to the spare bedroom, and Edith distinctly heard someone curse loudly. One voice, louder than the rest, was shouting something she couldn’t make out. 

Edith and Thomas had both immediately sat up when the shouting started, and now they exchanged looks of growing panic as blaring sirens rang out and the source of the commotion became clear. Someone had called the police on the party. 

Edith put her gloves back on first. Then, in a blur of panic, she jumped up from the bed and began tugging on her socks and boots. Thomas was at a bit of a disadvantage since he had to pull on his khakis as well as his shoes, but by the time Edith had grabbed her jacket from the floor, sloppy single knots tying her boots, he was also on his way to the door, and Edith threw it open for him. 

It was chaos in the hallway, illuminated by the flashing police lights coming through the front windows, but Thomas bolted through the doorway and merged with the crowd instantly. Edith spared one last glance around the guest room before following, shutting the door behind her. 

People were panicking, jostling each other in their hurry to escape the police, who would certainly bust anyone there for underage drinking, but thankfully everyone in the corridor was going in the same direction--down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out the backdoor onto the patio. It was a surprisingly organized evacuation, which made Edith suspect the host of the party had been the person shouting instructions earlier. 

Teenagers in various states of panic, confusion, and drunkenness spilled out the backdoor and began to take off in all directions. Edith stumbled blinking into the night air, swept along by the current until she was standing in the grass a few hundred feet away from the house. She had walked here, so it wasn’t as if she needed to find a car, but unfortunately the police were very much blocking the way back to her apartment. Feeling nervous at the continuing sirens and lights, she set off into the forest behind the house, the sound of blood rushing in her ears. 

The farther she got from the house, the darker it became, so she quickly had to pull her phone out of her jacket pocket to use as a flashlight. She didn’t want to call any unnecessary attention to herself, but she figured the odds of the police following her specifically were pretty slim. Eventually, she got far enough away that the only things she could hear were crickets and the sound of her own breathing. 

Edith stopped against a tree and looked up at the sky. It was just past midnight according to her phone, and she could see a few stars through the tree branches. The air was pleasantly cool. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm back down after the police incident, and puzzled over the way looking at the night sky made her feel so small and so big at the same time. She supposed it was simply the way the sky worked. 

She hoped Thomas was safe. She had enjoyed his company a lot. He had made her smile more in one night than she had in weeks. It really had been a good night overall, although the arrival of the police had not been an ideal ending. 

Stifling a yawn, Edith unlocked her phone and used it to confirm the way home. Despite being fairly deep in the woods, she was reasonably confident she knew where to go, but she started the route back to her apartment anyway. She would prefer not to get lost in the woods in the middle of the night indefinitely, so it was better safe than sorry. 

Three-quarters of an hour later, at approaching one am, Edith let herself into her apartment and managed to change out of her clothes before falling asleep the instant she got into bed. The last thought she had before unconsciousness overwhelmed her was that she was happy for some reason. 

XXX

Thomas spun around in a panic, looking for the classmate who had driven him here, but the young man in question was nowhere to be found. All around, party-goers were fleeing the scene. Soon there would be no one left on the patio, and Thomas did not want to be the last one there when the police finally made it through the house. Heart pounding with nerves, he set off into the wilderness to the right of the house, as much as it could be considered wilderness this close to the city. He intended to cut through the trees and come out in someone’s backyard near the street where his ride had parked the car. 

Based on the rustling and crashing noises and the light of several phones, some other party attendees had had the same idea. Thomas tried not to wince at the loud noises they created tromping through the woods. The cops probably weren’t too serious about arresting a bunch of teenagers anyway, Thomas told himself. They had probably just wanted to break up the party, and now that they had succeeded, with any luck they would leave everyone alone. 

Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on not walking into any trees. Despite his best efforts, he was certain he was ruining his shoes with mud, but to his surprise he didn’t really mind. He had more at home after all, and it was all absolutely worth it. He was glad he had come to this party, no matter the shoes he ruined or the classmate he had to deal with to get home. He thought that meeting Edith was more than worth the effort. 

The edge of the trees was in sight, and Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped Edith was having similar success wherever she had ended up. It was late enough that they likely would have had to go home soon anyway. Thomas rubbed his eyes sleepily and crossed back over into suburbia. He had a nagging feeling in his chest he couldn’t identity the source of it, as if he were forgetting something, but he figured it was residual from the close encounter with law enforcement. If it was important, he could figure it out later. 

Thomas walked to the end of the road and found the sign telling him which street he was on. From there, it only took him another five minutes to walk back to where he and his classmate had left the car. Thankfully it was still there. 

“There you are!” A slightly taller young white man with blond hair and messy facial scruff was leaning lopsidedly against the car. His name was Jared Anderson, and he was in Thomas’s AP Calculus class, although neither of them were doing very well in it. “Man, I was gonna leave without you. Where the hell you been?” 

“I walked through the woods to avoid the cops,” Thomas answered. “Were you waiting long?” 

Jared turned onto his side against the car to face Thomas. “Dunno. What time is it? Felt like forever.” He looked a total mess, although Thomas’s appearance likely wasn’t much better. The collar of his polo was rumpled, the buttons undone, the hem untucked. His hair was mess, and he was clearly still drunk. All in all, Thomas didn’t fancy his chances of driving himself home alone. 

“It’s 12:17,” Thomas informed him, glancing at his phone. Judging by when the police had showed up and the amount of time it took to walk back to the car, Jared couldn’t have been waiting more than ten minutes, but he decided against telling him that. “Thanks for waiting. How about I drive you back to make up for it?” 

“Yeah.” Jared pushed himself upright and stumbled against the car again. “You should do that. I’m kind of tired. But don’t go scratching it or anything. I have an image to maintain.” 

“I will not scratch your car, Jared,” Thomas promised, feeling pretty tired himself but at least he wasn’t half so drunk. His last drink had been well over an hour ago, and the subsequent series of events had left him feeling relatively sober. It was much safer than Jared driving at any rate. 

“Damn right,” Jared slurred, opening the passenger side door and falling through it. As if by magic, he popped up again completely unharmed and seated correctly in the passenger seat. Thomas blinked and went around to get in the driver’s seat. 

“Can I have your keys?” he asked, adjusting the rear view mirror to better suit his height. As far as he could tell, they were alone in the neighborhood. 

“In my pocket,” Jared murmured, vaguely patting his cargo shorts. Thomas restrained a sigh and retrieved the keys from the pocket closest to him, thankful he didn’t have to dig around too much. 

“Hey, what happened to your shirt, man?” 

Thomas looked up from putting the key in the ignition and saw that Jared was still squinting at him. The blue button-up Thomas was wearing was in disarray, only half of the buttons randomly done and quite possibly in the wrong holes. Neither his fine motor skills nor his motivation had been at their best when he was rebuttoning it earlier that night. 

“I don’t know, what happened to yours?” Thomas said without thinking, crossing his arms. 

Jared grunted. “It was hot in there. I gave up on looking neat. S-sue me.” 

Thomas started the car and began driving to Jared’s house. He had been hoping Jared would be sober enough to drop him at his house before going home himself, but it looked like he would be walking home instead. Thankfully it wasn’t far, but Thomas still wasn’t happy about it. He drove in resigned silence. 

“Meet anyone cute at the party?” Jared asked, rolling his head onto his other shoulder to look at Thomas. Thomas pointedly continued to look at the road. 

“Yes,” he said shortly. 

“What she like?” 

“I’m not telling you,” said Thomas simply. He really didn’t want to discuss Edith Finch with this guy, although who he would be willing to talk to about her he had no idea. 

“Did you even get her number, man?” Jared sounded skeptical now. 

Thomas’s brain turned to static. Had he ever gotten her phone number? It seemed like a given, but as he thought it over, he couldn’t seem to remember ever putting it into his phone or even telling her his. With a growing sense of distress he tried to remember any identifying information about her and found that he couldn’t. He knew she was a junior in high school like him, he knew she wanted to study history if she went to college, and he knew she liked it when he kissed the knuckles of each of her fingers, but he didn’t know where she lived currently. 

“Shit.” Thomas’s jaw clenched tight, and his grip went white on the steering wheel. 

“Bad luck, man.” Jared didn’t seem especially sympathetic. “You’ll get ‘em next time. Or not. Oh look, it’s my house. Just pull into the driveway, it’s cool.” 

Thomas did as he asked, unable to speak for the storm of emotions inside him. He resisted the urge to groan in frustration as he turned off the car and got out. Jared stumbled out of the passenger side and started to make his way up the front steps of his house before he stopped uncertainly. 

“Do you still have my keys?” he asked, swaying slightly. 

Thomas sighed. “Yeah, here you go.” He stepped forward and deposited the keys into the pocket of Jared’s polo shirt. “See you in calculus.” 

He turned around and left, not bothering to see if Jared made it into his house, although judging by the bang of the screendoor he did. Thomas began his fifteen minute trek home, hands in his pockets and head in the clouds. He was desperately scouring his memory for Edith’s contact information, but nothing came to him. His heart sank still further. 

He arrived at his house in a daze and slipped through the front door, hoping not to wake up his parents. Taking off his muddy shoes and carrying them in his hands, he crept up the stairs and finally arrived at his bedroom, a final sigh of relief hitting him once he was safely inside. 

Thomas collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep fully clothed. His dreams were sweet and restless. 


End file.
